The rain fell in sheets across the dilapidated neighbourhood as Tera made her way up the cracked concrete steps to her parents' apartment. Her boots splashed through puddles that reflected the dim glow of flickering street lamps. Three days had passed since the failed vote, since everything they'd worked for had collapsed in an instant.
The building's entrance scanner was broken again. Tera pressed her palm against the grimy surface anyway, going through the motions before resorting to the manual override; forcing the door open by with her two bare hands. Some things never changed.
The elevator had been out of service for months, so she climbed the eight flights of stairs, each step heavier than the last. Her tactical gear was gone now, traded for worn civilian clothes that wouldn't attract attention. The Returners had scattered after their failed operation, going "underground" until they could regroup, if they could regroup at all.
When she reached apartment 804, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the door. The last time she'd been home was before the raid on the server complex. Her parents didn't know she was involved with the Returners. To them, she was just their remaining daughter, the one who'd chosen to stay behind while Luna ascended to digital immortality.
She knocked softly before using her key.
The apartment was dimly lit to save on energy credits. The familiar smell of her mother's herbal remedies felt her nostrils straight away. Tera found her father in his usual spot by the window, staring out at the rain, his wheelchair positioned to catch the last of the day's natural light.
"Dad," she said softly.
He turned, his weathered face lighting up despite the oxygen tube running beneath his nose. "Tera! We were worried sick. Three days without a message..."
"Sorry, I got caught up in something." She bent down to kiss his forehead, noting how much thinner he seemed since she'd last seen him just a week ago. His hair, once thick and blonde like hers, had thinned to sparse white strands.
"Your mother's resting," he said, nodding toward the bedroom. "The rationing's been worse this week. They cut water to six hours a day now."
Tera's jaw tightened. "I brought supplies," she said, unslinging her backpack. She pulled out several nutrient packs, a small pouch of assorted medicines, including painkillers and antibiotics, as well as two precious water filters. "Should help for a while."
Her father's eyes widened at the sight of the antibiotics. "Tera, how did you afford these? Not doing anything dangerous, I hope?"
She forced a smile. "Just picked up some extra work. Nothing to worry about."
His eyes, still sharp despite his failing body, studied her face. "You look tired, sweetheart. And that cut on your cheek is new."
Tera touched the small gash she'd gotten while escaping the Luminex facility. "Just a scratch from work."
"What kind of translation job gives you cuts like that?"
Before she could answer, a thin voice called from the bedroom. "Is that Tera?"
"Coming, Mom," she called back, giving her father's shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading to the bedroom.
The sight of her mother made Tera's heart clench. Once vibrant and strong, Sophie Cantwell was now a shadow of herself, her body ravaged by the same respiratory disease that had claimed so many in the polluted lower sectors. Her grey hair rested on her pillow, and her brown eyes, an exact replica of Tera's seemed irreversible exhausted.
"My love," she whispered, reaching out a thin hand. "You're home."
Tera sat on the edge of the bed, taking her mother's hand. "Just for a little while. I brought medicine."
"For your father? Good. He won't say it, but his breathing was worse yesterday."
"For both of you," Tera insisted. "I got the good stuff this time."
Her mother's expression turned to concern. "Tera, those cost a fortune. Tell me you didn't—"
"It's fine, Mom. Really." Tera squeezed her hand. "How are you feeling today?"
"Same as always." Her mother attempted a smile. "The building lost power again yesterday. Seventeen hours this time. Your father's oxygen concentrator switched to emergency battery."
Tera felt anger rising in her chest. While the uploaded enjoyed perfect simulated environments powered by massive energy grids, the left-behind struggled with basic necessities. The raid was supposed to change all that. The vote was supposed to give them hope.
"Have you heard from Luna?" her mother asked suddenly.
Tera froze. Her parents didn't know she'd been in contact with her uploaded sister. They certainly didn't know Luna had been banished to a limited server for trying to help the Returners.
"No," she lied. "Why would I?"
Her mother sighed. "I just thought... with all the news about that attack on the server complex... they say some of the uploaded were affected."
So news of the raid had spread. "I'm sure Luna's fine," Tera said flatly. "The premium members always are."
"She still checks on us, you know. Her AI proxy makes sure our medical supplies get delivered."
Tera bit back a bitter comment. Luna's "generosity" was a token gesture, crumbs from her digital table. It wasn't enough. It had never been enough.
"I need to go out again tonight," Tera said, changing the subject. "Just for a few hours. I'll make sure you're all good before I leave."
"More work? Tera, you're pushing yourself too hard," her mother warned. "Whatever you're doing, it's not worth your health."
If only she knew. "It's important, Mom. Trust me."
As she helped her mother take the antibiotics, Tera's resolve hardened. The failed vote wasn't the end. It was just the beginning of a new approach. Somewhere in the limited server, Luna, Zac, and Diana were trapped, potentially valuable allies. And somewhere in the city, the scattered Returners were waiting for a signal, a new plan.
She would find another way to bridge the divide between the worlds. For her parents. For everyone left behind.
Later, as she prepared to leave, her father caught her wrist. "Tera," he said, his voice low. "I may be sick, but I'm not blind. I see the news feeds. Those people who attacked the server farms... the Returners. You're mixed up with them, aren't you?"
Tera hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes."
Instead of the disappointment she expected, her father's eyes shone with understanding. "Your sister chose to leave this world behind. You chose to fight for it." He pressed something into her palm, a small data chip, ancient technology by current standards. "This belonged to your grandfather. From before the Collapse. There might be something useful on it. Something they've forgotten."
Tera pocketed the chip, surprised by her father's support. "I'll be careful."
"No, you won't," he said with a sad smile. "You're just like him. Just like me before this." He gestured to his wheelchair. "You'll do what needs to be done, consequences be damned. Just remember what you're fighting for."
"I know what I'm fighting for," Tera replied, thinking of her parents' struggle, of the millions suffering while the uploaded lived in digital luxury. "A future where we all have a chance, not just those who can afford it."
As she left the apartment and headed back into the rain-soaked night, Tera felt the weight of the data chip in her pocket. A piece of the past that might help shape the future. A new direction for her to guide the Returners towards.